A Voice in the Darkness
by Arielle Daughter of Aphrodite
Summary: Natasha Weber (Webby) lives in a world full of crime. Lying and cheating rules. Suddenly. Natasha discovers a horrible secret that changes her perspective of the world around completely. To survive, she must turn to the most unexpected allies.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I jolted awake out of another nightmare, shaking the bed. It must mean something. Something big was going to happen. Something dangerous. Something unstoppable. But what could it be? Fear made my heart tremble. Knots tightened in my stomach. What could it be that was bothering me so much? I shook, chills running up my back.

I felt like a child afraid of walking into a dark room at night. I looked at the alarm clock. Three o'clock in the morning. The 3:05 train sped past, letting out eerie sounds as it whooshed past. I shivered. Cars honked below in the streets, lit by street lights, lining the roads. I looked at Mary Jane, sleeping next to me. Her face was peaceful as she slumbered, not noticing the noise I had made, shaking the bed. How could she sleep so well? I looked out the window. Pale moonbeams fell through the blinds and onto the bed in broken waves, making a soft glow on Mary Jane's pale face. Something covered the moon, for just an instant. I jumped in fear. I thought to myself, Breathe. You will be fine. Then I pulled the covers tighter and fell back asleep.

I slowly opened my eyes. I blinked. I sat up in the master bed. I stood up, stretching lazily and looking at the alarm clock. Eight o'clock, as usual. I felt my knuckle hit Mary Jane's face and I turned to apologize. Mary Jane was not in bed. She must have gone downstairs to make breakfast. I had just punched her empty pillow. Thank goodness.

I found myself looking out the window. The early morning sun rose over the horizon, pink clouds streaking the red and purple sky. I saw New York City's world famous skyscrapers in the distance. Cars were filling the roads, loud beeps could be heard. From up in my apartment, the vehicles looked like the toy cars I used to play with as a little boy.

I felt my superhero suit calling to me. It was like being under a spell I couldn't break away from. I sighed heavily. I felt its magnetic pull. I fought against it. Rubbing my eyes to clear my blurred vision, I headed for my closet to grab some clothes for my job interview today, although my suit kept calling to me from inside my trunk of special things. I picked out a nice blue and white plaid shirt with khaki colored jeans to wear for my new boss. I finally succombed to the call of my suit and wore it under my normal everyday clothes, tucking the hood inside out so it wouldn't be visible. I made sure that I couldn't see my suit through my shirt. I headed downstairs, succombing to yet another call, this time from Mary Jane.

I smelled my favorite, cinnamon blueberry pancakes, and smiled. "Nosotros tenemos panqueques y huevos del desayuno," Mary Jane announced, with a cheerful smile lighting up the room. "Um, no capisce?" I asked, confused, "What are you saying?" "We are having pancakes and eggs for breakfast! I trying to learn something different, besides all that stuff we learn in nursing school," she said sighing, looking wistfully out the window.

She turned back, piled a stack of pancakes on my plate, smothered it in syrup and set it in front of me. I tasted the sweet cinnamon dotting the stack of pancakes, the tart flavor of the blueberries, the buttery sweet taste breaking open in my mouth.

"You don't have much time, Peter," Mary Jane said, eyeing me and shaking her head at me and my sticky mouth like a child caught playing in the mud, "What if someone calls for help and you're just sitting here, taking your good old time eating pancakes." As if on cue, my crime alarm went off. I jumped. Mary Jane groaned and smacked her head. "What did I just say? But no," she moaned. I ignored her sarcastic comment.

I was scared, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I was nervous. Usually, I was confident, but today was different. "Well what are you waiting for?" Mary urged. "Goodbye, dear," I said, giving Mary Jane a kiss goodbye, "Take care of the baby while I'm gone." "Will do," she called as I ran out the door, "Be back in time for dinner!", Although I was never back in time, this was a routine for us. "Okay," I shouted back, unsure if I would make it back at all. I ripped off my clothes to show my suit underneath, pulled up my hood, becoming Spiderman, not Peter Parker. I jumped off to the scene of crime with a heavy heart, feeling as if I was flying to my doom. Little did I know how right I was.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Natasha's POV**

**A/N- This takes place in the future.**

Natasha woke up. It was still dark out as usual. Natasha casually glanced at her alarm clock already knowing what time it was. Six o'clock, as usual. The nanosleep only worked for ten hours. It wasn't like anyone could sleep on their own since the Disaster and the radiation explosion. Only we survived because of our advanced technology. We were able to live because we were protected from the UV radiation when the ozone layer disappeared. I swallowed a nano-pill to protect my skin and headed downstairs.

Mom nodded at me when I headed downstairs. "I bought some pancake and eggs micro-meals. . .again," she said. Natasha sighed. She longed for an eggs and bacon micro-meal like her classmates, but times were tough. Mr. Weber refused to steal and cheat like most of the richest men in town, and they didn't make a whole lot of money because people didn't trust them.

I unwrapped her micro-meal. It looked like a stick of gum. A stick of pancake-and-egg flavored gum. I popped it into her mouth. The buttery pancakes seemed bland and the eggs seemed overcooked. I had had them too much.

"Thanks, Mom," I said, chewing the micro-meal on my way out the door. I hooked my hoverboard to the magnetic field on the road, jumped on, and drove to school. I hated school. For some weird reason, Mom made me wear these weird clothes that somehow 'protected' me. I didn't understand, and neither did the kids at school. They teased me all the time.

Jason, the cutest guy in school, would just give me a "I feel sorry for you" look, and quickly look away. I felt bad for him too. He was living in a falsetto world. He put on an act for his friends, an act for the teachers, but had lost the real him. He didn't even know who he was.

I pulled up to the school, setting down my board, locking it with my password, and heading into the school, into another day of torture. As I walked through the door, I felt that familiar longing. I longed to be liked. I longed to be normal. I longed to be a somebody, not a nobody. I longed to wear normal clothes.

I saw Carson walk down the hallway towards me. I looked for somewhere to hide away, but there was just an empty hallway, me and Carson. "Yo twerp, whatcha doing?" he called out. I looked away quickly, put my head down, and ran to training class. "Yo, twerp, I wasn't done with you," Carson called after me, trying to sound like he was from the 2000's, "You're such a weakling." I pretended to not hear him as I walked into my class.

"Natasha, again?" the teacher complained. She reminded me of my mother with that weary look that meant she was too tired to lecture me about why I shouldn't be late. "There was traffic on the rails, Ms. Remorse," I explained. There was no point in saying it. It wasn't true, but it wasn't a complete lie. Sometimes, there was huge amounts of traffic and no one would be able to get to school. But today, there was no traffic. And everyone knew that. Including Ms. Remorse.

"It's time for roll call!" Ms. Remorse called out.

"Adinah Annoyance?"

"Here."

"Greg Infuriate?"

"Here."

"Robert Bitter?"

"Here."

"Natasha Weber?"

"Here."

Laughter exploded. I blushed. Why they laugh at me? I don't know. Is it my funny name? My voice? I'll never know. Even Ms. Remorse was trying not to laugh- and epicly failing. Snot shot out of her nose, and she started dying, laughing. Peter Insult fell out of his chair, which made everyone laugh even harder. Tears filled my eyes, I tried to blink them back. I felt like storming out of the room, crying, letting all my feelings go, but I held them in, patiently waiting for the laughter to stop. Jason was the only one not laughing. His sad eyes penetrated into me. I bit my lip, and looked away.

Ms. Remorse wiped her nose, sat up, and cleared her throat after the laughter had died out. "Okay," she said, "Let's start over."

"Monica Torture."

"Here."

Tommy Crusher?"

"Yo."

"Tommy Crusher?"

"What?"

"Tommy Crusher?"

"Go on. I said I was here, lady."

"TOMMY CRUSHER?"

"Here."

Giggles erupted. Tommy sure lived up to his name. He was large and tall. He used his size to become a bully. The teachers never dared getting him in trouble because his parents had so much money, going into the real world and deceiving people with their lies and tricks. The Crushers were master thieves. Every girl thought that Tommy was soooo cute, but I liked Jason more.

Ms. Remorse pretended like nothing was wrong, as usual, and continued with the roll call, all the way down the list. I put my head down on my desk, trying to be invisible. It didn't work.

After Ms. Remorse left the room, the torture started. "Yo loser," Tommy whispered behind me, poking me in the back with his laser pointer. I didn't answer. "I'm talking to you loser," Tommy whispered. I didn't turn around. "I'll burn my laser pointer into your back if you don't answer me," he threatened. Fear pounded in my heart. I was scared. I could already feel the laser pointer searing my skin, the pain flooding my back. "Ready. . ." Tommy whispered, "Set. . . .-" RING! RING! The superhero alarm saved me. We all rushed to press the invisible button on our desks. Mine had stopped working. So had Jason's. I panicked. I frantically pushed my button. Invisible giggles filled the room. I was flushed with embarrassment.

"Roll your sleeves down," someone said. I turned. It was Jason. I had never heard him talk before. Especially not to me. Especially during a superhero drill when it was forbidden to talk. "What?" I asked, confused in my thoughts. "Roll your sleeves down," he repeated. I did. "Now press your button," he said. I obeyed.

I felt my skin tingle and shiver was sent down my spine and I was invisible, like the rest of the class. Except for Jason. Jason seemed oddly calm, the fact that a superhero was in the building at this very second. Footsteps sounded in the hall. Invisible whispers were heard, and a wave of fear washed over the room. Jason climbed inside a walking cabinet as the door opened.

"Is everyone okay?" a voice boomed. It was the principal. Everyone sighed with relief. "Yes," said a chorus of voices. The principal slowly closed the door. All eyes went to the cabinet. No one dared move. No one dared to open the door. A thought popped into my head, Do it. Just do it. I don't know why I obeyed that voice, but I did. I stood up and walked toward the cabinet. Everyone started staring at me, mouths agape. I opened the door, and stared. No one was there. Jason had disappeared.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Spiderman's POV- PT (Past Tense)**

**A/N- I know this is a short chapter I will make it up in the next one.**

My gut clenched. I felt like throwing up as I headed to my secret headquarters. I felt faint. I landed and my knees buckled. I pulled my hood down as I collapsed on the floor. My assistants rushed to me. "Mistuw, are you okay?" a concerned little Monica asked. All voices gradually started to fade into the background.

Andy Maguire, Monica's older brother, called to me from the control booth. "Mr. Parker? We have a slight problem here. Oh, and do you mind that I brought Courtney and Monica along?" I groaned. I was too hot and tired to think. I threw up all over the high-tech floor. I watched my blueberry and cinnamon pancakes seep through the hologram floor, flowing into the dumpster outside.

"Mr. Parker-" Andy called again, saw me, then, "Oh." Courtney helped me to my feet, while Monica trying her luck at dragging one of my feet in the opposite direction. Courtney gasped. "Mr. Parker, your hair!" she exclaimed, "You have a huge bald spot on your head!" I groaned. This was the least of my worries. Courtney immediately picked a comb out of her pocketbook and attempted to comb my hair. Clumps of hair flew everywhere. "You bald!" Monica squealed.

I vomited again in reply. Monica looked green and squeamish. Andy came in, taking control of the situation. "Courtney, put away the comb. He needs a rest, not a hair appointment," Andy scolded. Courtney slunk away, embarrassment written on her face. She desperately wanted Andy to admire her instead of treat her like an annoying little sister. Monica pressed a button on the wall, and a bed rolled in. Andy gently laid me on the bed. "Is he okay?" Monica asked quietly and hopefully, praying the answer was yes, her face set and serious. "He will be, little Monica. Just you wait and see," Andy replied patting her head, quickly looking away, after he had said those words. Monica gave him a toothless grin and waddled off after Courtney, who was sulking on a bench across the room.

"Are you going to be okay?" Andy asked me. I gave a weak smile and replied, "I hope. In the mean time, do me a favor and get the aspirin in the medicine cabinet. I have a wicked headache." Andy reluctantly went. After he had left, I rolled over and threw up again. Monica came over and gave me a hug. "You be okay?" she asked for the millionth time. "Yes, little one," I said, reassuring her.

Suddenly, she started pounding on my head. She had grabbed some of my hair off the floor and was trying to put it back on my head. I chuckled and held her grubby fingers in my hands and said, "It can't be put back. It will grow back soon, sweetie." She nodded, and slid off the bed as Andy entered with the aspirin.

"She's a sweetheart but also a pain in the neck," Andy grumbled, handing me and aspirin tablet and a paper cup filled with water. "She reminds me of my daughter," I whispered, picturing her fuzzy wisps of blond hair held back by a pink bow, waddling around the house in her diaper, screeching, "Pawpaw! Pawpaw!"

I shivered in the cold room. "Andy can you please get a blanket? It's freezing in here," I asked. Andy frowned. "Mr. Parker, it's very hot in here. The air conditioner isn't working and its one hundred three degrees fahrenheit outside, which is very unusual for spring. I'm sure you don't need a blanket," he replied. I shivered again. Andy felt my forehead, and quickly took it off, as if he had touched a hot frying pan. "I. . .I need to get the thermometer," Andy stammered, dashing out of the room. I shook my head with confusion. Was I that freezing cold? Andy came back.

Before he could jam the thermometer into my mouth, I held his shoulders. "Andrew, I will. . ." -cough- "I will be fine," I said calmly, trying to reassure him. He looked at me with disbelief. He placed the thermometer on my tongue and nearly fainted with the results. "Mr. Parker, you have a serious fever of one hundred five degrees. You are lucky to be alive. We need to call a doctor," Andy said in a serious tone. I tried to put the words together in my head. Serious, one hundred five, lucky, doctor. "Courtney, get a wet wash-cloth for me will you?" Andy called. Courtney instantly jumped up, all too happy to be called on by Andy. He flipped out his phone and dialed those three hideous numbers; 9-1-1.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Natasha's POV**

I gasped with the rest of my trainers. Not here? How? I felt around the cabinet. Nothing. Nothing at all. "He's disappeared," I whispered. "Where is he? Where is he?" the invisible whispers muttered. "He's gone," I cried. Everyone else was too shell shocked and worried, huddling in cliques, to pay attention to me. "Is he dead? Where is he? Where did he go?" they asked. My heart pounded with fear. What if he was dead? I went out into the hallway to clear my mind. A hand grabbed me. An unfamiliar hand. I wanted to scream, but the person covered my mouth. It was the superhero.

I had always heard that superheroes were dangerous, but not this dangerous. With growing horror, I began to think I was being kidnapped. My kidnapper dragged me into the men's bathroom. I then realized the gender of my captor. I panicked. Was this person going to drown me in the toilet? The person pulled me into one of the stalls and quickly locked the door. The man slowly materialized. It was Jason. "You're. . .you're a. . .superhero?" I stuttered. He nodded, reluctant at first. "I am," he admitted, "But you are a superhero too." "But. . . . how?" I asked totally confused. "We are the descendants of great superheroes, Natasha," he said, "This world is evil. We steal, cheat, and lie. We have been taught wrong. Superheroes are the good ones. We are the good ones."

"Who are my ancestors then?" I challenged him. "I am the descendant of Superman, and you are the descendant of. . . ." he trailed off, looking into my eyes. "What is taking you so long? You're stalling," I pointed out, my eyes narrowing into angry slits. "No, I'm hacking into your retina to determine who your ancestor was," Jason replied calmly, as if he had simply just told me what the weather would be like tomorrow. "What?!" I said. "Ah, your ancestor was Spiderman," Jason replied after several more moments of silence. "Spiderman?! That is so lame!" I shrieked, "Whose name is Spiderman!" This was so embarrassing, yelling at the guy you're crushing on, telling him that what he's saying is retarded. He deserved it though. Dragging me into a bathroom stall to talk to me about superheroes? "Do you even know who Spiderman was?" Jason asked, folding his arms. "No, and I don't want to know," I said, trying to escape the stall.

It suddenly hit me that I was in the men's bathroom in a stall with a boy, and I turned beet red, banging on the door. "Zenith, you can't go. I need you. We need you," Jason pleaded, grabbing my hand. "I'm sorry. I. . . .I. . need to think about it some more," I said. "Do you swear to keep this a secret? For us?" Jason asked, his firm grip on my hands loosening when he saw the fear and disbelief in my eyes. "Who is 'us'?" I asked. Jason sighed. "I'll tell you later," he said.

Silent tears streamed down my face. Tears of fear for what might happen if my secret got out. Tears of anger for my parents leaving me clueless of my ancestry. Tears of disbelief for the fact that this was happening right now. After I let all my feelings out, I dried my eyes and took a deep, shaky breath.

"You need to go home," Jason said. What?! It was probably like fifth period in training, I'm in a stall with a guy who just told me I'm some descendant of a superhero who definitely needs a new name, and he was telling me to go home? Ms. Remorse and the entire school were probably looking for us. "You need some rest. I can tell you how to sneak past the alarms and security cameras in your house and here at school," Jason explained. I was exhausted from the superhero drill and the fact that I was the superhero the alarm went off for. "I don't have any at my house," I protested. "Let me see your shirt," he said, grabbing my sleeve. "Oh," he said, "You have protective body wear. My parents have been saving up for this gear for months!" "What? This ugly stuff?" I scoffed, "You want it? Here."

"No no no no no," he protested, "You need that to pass through superhero detectors. That's how you blend in." "Well, I'm not blending in now. I look like a freak!" I said, ignoring him, sliding under the stall door and running out of the bathroom. Straight through the red-faced principal. Straight through him, actually, like he was a ghost. He had seen me though, unfortunately. The superhero detectors wailed all around me like sirens. I ran as fast as I could. I suddenly realized how fast I was moving. Or how fast everything else was moving. Everything was a blur. I realized I was the one moving so fast. Inhumanly fast.

I stopped for a moment to rest. I staggered onto a nearby bench. Questions whirled around in my mind. Why had my parents never told me this? Why was Jason trusting me with this information in the first place?

I was startled by a guy who was standing right in front of me as I sat on the bench, hyperventilating. "Woah. You weren't there a second ago," he said, walking over to me. I blushed. "Um. . . .I. . .um. . . well. . ." I stammered, trying to grasp the right words to say. "Are you a. . .well, never mind," he said, scratching the back of his neck, looking nervous. "Um. . .mind if I sit down?" he asked. "Sure. I mean no. I mean. . . ." I stammered. He was even cuter than Jason, if that was even remotely possible.

"Uh, hi," he greeted me awkwardly. Then again, this whole conversation was awkward. Two awkward confrontations with two super hot guys. I couldn't already tell my day wasn't going to be one of my favorites. "Hi," I answered back, just to get a conversation started. "What's your name?" he asked, looking into me with his warm brown eyes. "Natasha," I replied, pulling my eyes away from him to look at the traffic. "Oh. I'm Jaden. Jaden Andrews," he said, looking out at the traffic with me. Suddenly, without any explanation, he quickly turned and started pushing his finger between my eyes. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I started to faint. The last thing I heard was, "I got her. Take her out to the nanobile."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Andy's POV**

**Please read my other story Vengeance. Thanks!**

He tried reasoning with me, but was clearly ill and mentally instable at the moment. "Why 9-1-1?" he cried, "this can. . .can be fixed on its on Andy. Please. . ." "No. Andy! You can't do this! I'll be fine!" he begged. "I am truly sorry Mr. Parker, but you're very very sick! It's a miracle you're alive right now!" I said. "You don't know anything! They don't know anything! My secret will be exposed, Andrew! Or does that not matter now? What does matter now?" Mr. Parker argued. "You're dying Mr. Parker! That matters more than your secret. What is your secret if you are not alive to keep it hidden. I will protect you. I will protect your secret for as long as I can, but you are dying right now and you desperately need help!" I yelled.

Silence coated the room like a thick blanket. I looked over at my sisters. Courtney and Monica were staring at me, wide-eyed and terrified. Monica's big blue eyes were filled with terror, silent tears splashing onto her big puffy cheeks. "Liaw!" she screamed, cutting the blanket of silence open like a sharp sword, erupting into wails. "I'm. . .I'm not a liar, Monica," I said, trying to reassure her.

"Yes you are," Courtney replied, speaking up, her voice shaking, "You told her that Mr. Parker would be okay. You promised her that he would be fine. You lied to her. You lied to me." Her words struck me speechless. She didn't stop there. "She could've handled the truth. She handled Dad's death well enough," she said. Except for Monica's constant bawling, the room was silent. I definitely was not prepared to hear this. Memories of Dad flooded my mind. Throwing around a baseball. His death. The flash of a blood stained blade. I washed thought out of my mind. I tried to say something, but nothing would come out. "I. . .I'm sorry," I said. "Don't try to apologize, Andy. You don't mean it anyway," Courtney said, frowning at me. She stalked out of the room, leaving me with little Monica to take care of. "Liaw! Liaw! Liaw!" she screamed. "Monica. Monica. Monica!" I cried, trying to get her attention.

I picked her up. She fought against me, kicking and squirming with all her might. "Monica. Look. Look at me," I said, tearing up. She stopped shouting. "Monica. I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry," I apologized. Monica frowned at me, a little like Courtney's frown. "I mean it, Monica. I'm sorry. Forgive?" I cried, desperately. I hated this look. The kind of look she gave Mum whenever she ripped a piece of something she got off the ground out of her mouth. She looked like she was about to cry. The last thing I needed right now was my little sister bawling in my arms and a telephone that held Mr. Parker's life in it lying on the floor, out of reach. "Forgive?" I pleaded now. She nodded, but kept on wriggling out of my grasp. I set her down.

I picked up the phone off the ground. "911, what is your emergency?" the operator was saying. "Uh. . .hello? Um. . .my boss is . . . well. . . . dying. We need an ambulance on Poplar Street," I stammered. This wasn't going well. The operator's voice sounded so familiar. "Andy, please," Mr. Parker pleaded with me, desperation in his eyes. I quickly looked away. I couldn't stand his eyes. He reminded me of my father.

"Andy? Is this you? Are you okay?I recognize your voice," the operator asked, bringing me back to the real world. "I. . . I. . . .it's me, but my boss is dying right now so if can you connect me to the police now that would be wonderful," I said a bit brusquely. "Andy? This is Michelle. Tell me, are you okay?" she persisted, ignoring my angry words. "I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine. Just please connect me to the police, Michelle. Telephone operators aren't supposed to communicate with the callers anyway," I almost yelled. "Andy- well we can talk another time. Here it goes," she sighed, pain in her voice. I groaned. It seemed as if everyone didn't want me to help Mr. Parker.

"Andy. . . please. . .just reconsider," Mr. Parker whispered. "No Master Parker. You're delusional. You need some rest. I'm just calling the hospital. You'll be fine," I said, trying to calm him, shutting off my thoughts of regret. He wouldn't give up. "I don't need a hospital. I don't need any rest. I just need time to heal. Give me some peace. That's what I need," he muttered. "Whether you like it or not, I calling that hospital," I shouted back, angrily.

"Is. . . .is he d-dying, Andie?" Monica asked, tugging on my pant leg, her big eyes filled with tears of concern and fear. I nodded. "Yes Monica," I said, looking away, prepared for the crying and tears. But none came. Courtney was right. Monica could handle death better than any two year old I had ever met, and was one of the most understanding toddlers too. I was filled with remorse and regret. I should have told her the truth and have been prepared for the crying anyway instead of lying about it. When I looked back, Monica was crawling onto Mr. Parker's bed. I wanted to stop her, but something in me wouldn't let me. She sat on his lap as he began to close his eyes. "Bye bye Daddy," she whispered, waving her fingers in his face, "I see you up there soon, wight?" "Right," I whispered, trying to choke back the tears glistening in my red, swollen eyes.


End file.
